


The Quiet

by bridzyeeet



Category: The Maze Runner (Movies), The Maze Runner Series - All Media Types, The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, M/M, The Maze Runner - Freeform, kingdom universe, maz runner series, maze runner - Freeform, tmr - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-24
Updated: 2018-07-24
Packaged: 2019-06-15 13:58:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15414453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bridzyeeet/pseuds/bridzyeeet
Summary: Being a king is no ordinary job. One has to have a steel heart that would do what is best for their people. But for Thomas, the position of power took more than what he gave, namely a blond boy who he had once loved.





	The Quiet

_The Quiet_

    It was another busy afternoon in the Kingdom of Glade. The market was full of people – merchants yelling as to advertise their goods, peasants haggling and grumbling about the high prices, children shrieking merrily as they watched a clown perform in the middle of the square, nothing out of the ordinary for a Glader.

    Yet, they had failed to notice that the ruler of their kingdom walked among them, blending ever so easily to the point that he had been elbowed and yelled at more times than he did the same in his life.

    Thomas lowered his head, adjusting his cap for it to cover his face as he walked toward the flower vendors. The stores lined up bouquets of beautiful flowers – some, he noticed, were grown in the gardens of the palace. As he took a step towards one of them an image – rather, a memory. A bittersweet memory of meeting someone he held so dear to his heart.

     _“Flowers! The fresh-est flowers in Glade! Spare me a penny sir, a flower for a dame?” The boy had a cheery smile on his face as he sang his own rhyme._

     _“Hello there sir! Would you like to buy some flowers?” The lad asked a rather wealthy looking man, a merchant perhaps? Thomas thought to himself. “Get away, child! Can’t you see I’m busy here?” The man spat, pushing the child aside. Now that he was in close proximity, he noticed the little features of the young lad - chocolate brown eyes, freckles on his nose and a head of curly hair atop his head._

     _“Are you alright?”_

     _“I’m fine sir. Don’t worry,” the boy flashed him a smile, too pure for this world. “Thank you for helping me, I’m Isaac.” Thomas chuckled at how this child was oblivious as to his position in society – yet he was somewhat grateful, that someone who doesn’t know who he was would treat him well. “Glad I could help, Isaac,” he ruffled Isaac’s hair. “I’m Thomas.”_

     _Isaac grinned and looked at his basket, yet as quickly as he put on a smile, it vanished from his face and tears began to prickle at the corner of his eyes. “What’s wrong? Where does it hurt? Do you need to go to infirmary?”_

     _“I-I’m fine. I just wanted to give you a flower… because you helped me. But now I can’t sell any and big brother would be tired from working at the castle and he won’t be able to buy mommy her medicine and – and –” Thomas felt guilt stab his heart, for this child was already going through something tough, something he had experienced before. He took the basket from Isaac’s trembling hands and examined the flowers. Most of them had dried, yet there was one in particular, that stood out from the rest, even in its wilted state. “Nonsense! Your flowers are beautiful, Isaac. How much did your brother set for all of the flowers in your basket?”_

     _The boy sniffled and counted his fingers, “he said twenty silver. But I rarely get five.” Thomas smiled and told Isaac to hold out his hands, which the latter did with confusion. “Here’s five pieces of gold. I bet it would be enough for a week’s worth of medicine for your mother and food for you and your brother.” Isaac’s eyes lit up almost instantly._

     _“Really Thomas?!” He nodded, and the little boy hugged him tightly, repeatedly yammering words of gratitude. “Oi, what’s going on there?” They turned, and, automatically Isaac ran to the direction of the third voice._

     ** _“Newt!”_**

    Thomas gasped, bringing himself back to reality. It was a memory. The flower shops were still there, but no boy that sold flowers stood at the corner, singing his little rhyme. He sighed and trudged on forward.

    Once he was outside town, he took off his cap, letting the sunlight beat down on his head. He let out a sigh and walked towards his destination on a road he memorized with his entire being. A few minutes later, he reached a small and run-down cottage, and beside it, was a garden – or what was left of it. The weeds overgrew the plants that were once there, there were rows of broken pots and rotten fruit. Thomas walked towards the garden and peeked at the wild flowers that somehow managed to blossom without the weeds chocking them to death.

    His eyes landed on a certain patch, where small white flowers grew. There were a lot of them, enough for a bouquet – well, not quite. The flowers were too small to be a proper bouquet, yet too beautiful to ignore. Simple, yet stunning, he thought to himself as he began to pick some of them, letting his mind float as he did so.

     _“You’re such a sneaky little shank, you know that right?” Newt said as he and Thomas walked out of town, ruffling his hair like he would to Isaac. It had been their habit to sneak away from the   castle every now and then and escape to the hills and meadows of the outskirts of Glade – just before the Deadheads. “Hey, Newt look,” Thomas said finally, pointing at the little white flower growing at the side of the path. They studied the flowers dance in the wind, both captivated by their beauty._

     _“They’re beautiful, aren’t they Tommy?”_

     _“They’re a lot like you, actually.”_

     _Newt laughed, his laugh of the chorus of a thousand angels. “Shuck, you’re making me blush.” Thomas playfully punched his shoulder. “What I mean is that, these flowers, symbolize you or something. They’re simple, common, yet beautiful in their own way.”_

     _Newt was silent, yet a smile was on his face. “Hey, look at me,” his voice was quieter, his accent lacing every word as he cupped his face. “It’s going to be alright okay? Nobody in this bloody world can ever tear us apart okay, Greenie?” Thomas nodded, and closed the distance between their lips._

     That moment, he felt infinite. His world had one beginning and one end, and it was with Newt. He wanted to relive that moment over and over again, he wanted to feel like he was right. That everything was going to be alright.

    But he knew all too well it wasn’t true.

    ---

    Thomas stood atop a hill, the castle and the town far behind him. He watched at the sunset, the sky being a canvas of soft colors. He put down the bouquet at the foot of the tree, leaning against it, his eyes becoming glassy as he tried to force the words out of his throat.

    “Hey,” he began. “I got those for you. I know you love them. I – I saw Minho today. He got married, apparently. Crazy, I know. I – I just can’t anymore. Fuck, I can’t.” Tears began to roll down his cheeks, and in a matter of moments, he was sobbing uncontrollably. “I’m sorry. I’m so  _fucking_  sorry. I was a coward and an idiot and I was just a puppet and I  _fucked_  up so badly.” He was down on the ground, sobbing onto the grass. “Newt, please. Come back to me, I miss you so fucking much. I miss seeing your eyes and how they outshone any star.” He was sobbing uncontrollably, his words incoherent as he did so.

     “I want to see you wobble around with limp of yours, to see you smile and smile because I knew that if I kissed you you’d kiss me back as well. I want to hear you say my name with that accent of yours that turns me to mush because nobody in this world would say it the way you do. You loved me right?! Right?! Answer me, please!”

    He was yelling, and his mind had gone full circle – to the even that cost him the love of his life, the reason for his existence, to the part where he had lost him – Newt – forever.

     _“A gift…?”_

     _“Yes you majesty, I believe you will be quite pleased.” Captain Gallius replied, bowing before their king. Heyelled out to his companions and the Great Doors were opened as three guards hauled in a man. Thomas turned to Minho, who only shrugged in response._

     _“Majesty, I give you the traitor…” Thomas’ eyes widened, his entire being freezing as he saw the man whom they had brought before him – brought before him to behead in front of the entirety of Glade. His world came crashing down as the last words fell from Gallius’ mouth with disgust. He heard nothing but his name, saw nothing but him, the world around him disappearing into oblivion._

     _“…Newt.”_

     _Minho was just as shocked as he was, involuntarily emitting a sound of surprise. “It can’t be.”_

     ** _“Hey Tommy.”_**

     _He had never seen him so broken before: his shirt was stained with blood and dirt, a bruise beginning to form at his left cheek. But nevertheless, he looked the same. He was still the same boy whom he loved with his entire being. And yet, why was he in front of him? Why was he being accused of a traitor?_

     _“I-I don’t understand. Newt, please. Explain yourself.”_

     _The great hall fell silent, Thomas did not notice that the guards had brought him in with such urgency that the townspeople began to gather at the hall. Yet his eyes were on Newt, and only Newt as he sat up from his throne. “Thomas, wait,” Minho pleaded, desperately trying to grab hold of his hand – in turn, was simply shrugged by the other._

     _As he gazed into his lover’s eyes, he found Newt pleading. Pleading for his release. But he couldn’t bring himself to kill him._

     _“Finally got the brains to figure it all out, shank? That took a shucking while didn’t it?” Newt’s voice echoed through the quiet hall, taunting the king. “Newt –”_

     _“Will you please get on with it?! I’m so sick and tired of this shit that this kingdom’s become under your rule.” Newt hated the way he broke Thomas’ heart with a few words, yet he knew it was all true – his hatred for the governance finally being let out.  “Newt I don’t understand, what’s going on, you’re not acting like yourself. Please, calm down.”_

     _“Calm down?! CALM DOWN! My family has been slaughtered, Thomas! Slaughtered by the men you told me who would protect them!”_

     _By this time, Thomas almost threw himself to Newt, yet he kept his head high, pushing away Gallius and motioning to the guards to let Newt go. The dirty blond dropped to his knees, tears streaming down his friend. “Newt, listen to me –”_

     _“No,  you listen to me! Release me from my sorrows, let me die. If I was given a choice to die, Tommy, I would want it by your hands. Kill me, if you’ve ever been my friend.”_

     _A sword was unshethed, the sound of steel  ringing in his ears._

     ** _“Please, Tommy, please.”_**

     _Thomas was about to drop it, and kiss the misery out of his lover’s heart, and show the world how much he love him, before Newt stood up. Minho screamed, Gallius lunged to protect the king and the crowd gasped and held their breath._

     _Blood dripped on the carpet, staining the bright red with the crimson drops of a sorrowful man, who died in the arms of the man whom he loved so much that he had sacrificed himself to prevent him from being humiliated and stripped of his rank . Blood stained the king’s clothing, as he felt Newt’s weight against him, himk being seconds away from fading._

     _But he did not go down without saying the words he had longed to say outloud, not just in Thomas’ sleep or drunken state where he would not remember it the next day._

     ** _“I love you.”_**

    But Thomas knew that he would never see his smile, nor would he hear his voice again. He would often wake up and expect Newt to be sleeping softly beside him, but every morning was just the same as the last. Cold and empty. He would often forget about what had happened, and would almost call out for his name, but the silence that greeted him  was too heartbreaking.

     _Just tell me,_

     _Say anything._

     _Sometimes the quiet is violent,_

     _And right now, anything hurts less than the quiet._

**Author's Note:**

> i was inspired by car radio by twenty one pilots, the quiet by troye sivan - and most especially this (https://www.deviantart.com/users/outgoing?http://0030715.tumblr.com/post/99782133307/more-ninord-said-hey-i-absolutely-adore) post of a kingdom au of the maze runner. and so, mixed that up with a little angst, and viola! a few hours later, you have a crying writer eager to spread angst to the world!


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